Chocolate Fortress
by WafflePop
Summary: He only wanted a certain brand of chocolate, because the rest were unimportant. Not really a humor piece, but it's a lot lighter than the usual depressing stuff I write.


Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters!

* * *

"No, no, it has to be that particular brand." Mello explained again.

There was a complaint.

"Then take it back and get a new batch." He hung up.

Mello rolled his eyes. For members of one of the most powerful mafias in the world, these guys sure were incompetent when it came to something as simple and mundane as grocery shopping.

Rod, who was seated next to Mello, chuckled to himself. It had only been a month, and he already liked this kid's attitude.

Mello smirked as well. It had been simply too easy to fit in. All it took was for him to get on the boss's good side and the rest handled itself. He knew that none of the other members liked him. In fact, they despised the new kid who had, in a matter of weeks, out-shined them all. But what could they do? As long as Mello possessed Rod's favor, everyone else was powerless. Even if the others didn't want to admit it, he knew that they also held a grudging respect towards him, which only made them hate him more. Mello did not blame them however, because he understood, he knew that feeling well.

It felt good to finally be at the top now though, but it also felt strange. Mello wasn't used to being the best, the favorite. No, he could not get comfortable with that idea even if he wanted to. There was still a bigger, more important goal to accomplish first. He was the best out of this bunch, but he wasn't the best overall yet.

The door flung open half an hour later, and several members entered with various food and supplies. One of the bigger ones glared at Mello with resentment. He chugged the heavy box he was carrying forcefully at the teen, who caught it effortlessly, and stormed out.

"Finally," Mello said, opening the container. Ah, good. They got the right brand. He took out one of the chocolate bars, unwrapped it, and snapped off a piece.

With the other hand, he began taking out the rest, placing each piece of chocolate on the table. Mello liked all kinds of chocolate, but this particular brand was his favorite. It was the first brand of chocolate that he had ever tasted before he even arrived at Wammy's.

He couldn't remember what happened exactly, but one minute he was sitting with his family, and the next, he woke up at the infirmary. Watari had found him there, still in shock even days later. Young Mello wouldn't eat or drink anything. But when the old man offered him a bar of chocolate, the child wanted more.

A few days after he arrived at the orphanage, Mello went to the main kitchen to get some replacement chocolate for the batch he had finished already. There was none. That can't be right. A new shipment had come in earlier just that week. It couldn't have been eaten already in such a short period of time. Did someone take them? Someone was trying to mess with him.

Mello charged down the hallways, knocking on kids' doors and interrogating them.

"Don't mess with me!" He went for the intimidation route first, attempting to scare the suspect into confessing before they had a chance to think about lying. When he was certain that one child didn't steal his chocolates, he went to the next, and the next, and the next.

How many more children infested this damn place anyway? Perhaps it wasn't the children. Perhaps it was the staff. No, they wouldn't have any reason to treat Mello this way. He only just got here after all.

The angry boy stormed past the lobby when something caught his eye. It was a fortress of some sort, almost his height and perfectly structured, and most importantly, it was composed of his favorite brand of chocolate. _What the hell?_ Mello marched into the lobby and circled the fort until he saw an opening.

Within it sat a quiet, pale boy with pasty white hair. He appeared to be younger than Mello, and beside him was a pile of chocolate, _his_ chocolate. The child slowly picked one up, examined it, and placed it gently on the top of the rest. Systematically, he picked up another.

Mello seethed. "Those are mine."

The child said nothing.

He was ignoring him? That punk had the nerve to _ignore _him? Mello knocked down one of the chocolate towers, and the child looked up.

"I said," Mello snapped, "Those are my snacks, not your building blocks!"

Near stared at him. "They were in the kitchen. They were for everyone." He turned away from Mello as if nothing had happened and began reconstructing the part that Mello had demolished.

He wouldn't tolerate being ignored. "Right. You said they're for everyone, and yet you're hogging them all."

"I said they _were _for everyone. When they are still in storage, they are for everyone, but when someone claims them, they become possessions," the boy stated calmly.

The nerve of that kid ... Mello knocked down the rest of the monument.

"But if you want one, I won't stop you," he continued and went back to work.

For the rest of that day, Mello just sat there examining the strange boy. The kid would continue with his construction work, and Mello would occasionally eat some component of the structure. And whenever he got close to finishing the fort, Mello would knock it down again.

However, it never seemed to bother the child, and that only made Mello want to knock it down again and again.

...

Mello had finished taking all the chocolate out of the packaging. He tossed the box aside and glanced at the table.

Eh? The chocolate bars were all stacked neatly on top of each other and resembled a mini fortress. What the hell? When did he do this? He hadn't even been aware of it. Mello stared at his mini chocolate fort for a few minutes, slightly irritated at it for some reason.

_I wonder how much progress Near has made on the investigation by now._ He took a look at the fort again.

And knocked it down.


End file.
